


It's Not an End

by writingonpostcards



Series: Tumblr Ficlets - Check, Please! [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 19:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonpostcards/pseuds/writingonpostcards
Summary: Bitty and Jack get into a fight and Jack think it means the end of their relationship. Bitty has to convince him otherwise.





	It's Not an End

“You don’t understand!” Bitty shouts over the phone.

“But I do, Bits,” Jack retaliates for the umpteenth time this conversation.

“Jack, stop,” Bitty pleads, pressing the palm of his hand hard against his shut eyes. “You don’t, alright. You can’t. You haven’t grown up the way I did.”

“But I still–”

“Honey.”

Bitty isn’t sure if it’s the crack in his voice, but Jack goes silent on the other end.

Bitty sighs out roughly. Time apart is meant to be good for their relationship–absence makes the heart grow fonder–but all it seems to have done for Jack and Bitty is create tension and frustration.

“Eric,” Jack begins as Bitty is trying to calm his breathing. It’s not the way he says it normally; soft and reverent. No, this is like the angry spike of syllables he got from Jack in his first year at Samwell. This is a slap in the face.

“No,” he says firmly, then hangs up before he adds on anything else that his heart is tempting him with by telling him it will feel _so good_ to get off his chest. He’s got enough sense to know that he’d regret that when he’s cooled down. He doesn’t want to lose Jack, lord how much he doesn’t want that. 

Bitty turns his phone off and keeps it off for the rest of the night. His fingers itch, and he knows that even if he doesn’t text Jack, he’d be tweeting something vague and passive-aggressive which will only cause worry for his followers, some of which belong to the SMH.

-

The next morning Bitty sleeps in after having stayed up late baking. He opens his eyes slowly, aware that this morning he’s going to have to turn his phone back on and face the fact of his conversation with Jack last night.

He does it like ripping a band-aid off. Phone on, apology text sent, then he leaves it on his nightstand and heads downstairs.

He eats, then he bakes and listens to his music louder than normal. He’s calm now, last night’s frustration gone, and ready to talk to Jack about what he actually meant.

Upstairs, sitting on his bed with his phone in his hands, Bitty is stumped. There’s no response from Jack. He sends another text, asking Jack to call him later in the evening, and leaves his phone beside his laptop on the desk and he starts editing a vlog entry.

That evening, there’s no call. No text either, which worries Bitty as it’s outside Jack’s normal mode of operation. The smallest bit of doubt trembles in his fingers as he sends another text to Jack close to midnight, just to check that everything is okay.

Two days go by with no communication from Jack. It’s strange, and what’s stranger are the messages flooding his inbox from what seems like every contact he has _but_ Jack. They’re all variations on the same sentiment.

_Hey Bits. Jack talked to you recently? He’s not answering my emails. Thx._

_Bruh is Jack giving you radio silence too?_

_Could you let Jack know I’ve sent him those spreadsheets? Calls aren’t going through. Thanks man._

__Do you know if Jack’s gone away or something?_  
_

_Have you talked to Jack?_

_Is Jack talking to you?_

_Have you talked to Jack?_

-

After a lot of back and forth on the group chat, and plenty of help from Lardo and Shitty, Bitty ends up on his way to Montreal. Phone clutched in his hand on the flight even though airplane mode means nothing will get through. He has no checked baggage and breezes through the airport quick enough that he appreciates it even through his panic and lack of sleep.

He’s barely taking anything in as he makes his way through the city and out to the address Shitty gave him. All he can think about is Jack. Seeing Jack and talking to him and figuring out what’s wrong. He’s sure it’s not serious, because otherwise someone would have told him, or the team. So whatever reason Jack has for not replying to any of them isn’t serious. At least, it isn’t life or death. That’s what Bitty repeats to himself in his head, but he still feels it like a massive weight on his shoulders and it was making life unbearable for him in Georgia. 

So here he is, outside the Zimmermann’s home. He presses the doorbell and tries to tidy his hair which has suffered his fingers’ frantic pulling for hours now. Jack’s mother opens the door.

“Hello?”

Jack has her same cheekbones.

“Mrs. Zimmermann. Hi. You probably don’t know me,” Bitty says rushed and frantic and with no game plan. “I’m–

“Number 15.”

Jack’s dad comes out of a room off to the side, staring at Bitty with recognition. 

Bitty sighs out, relieved he won’t have to explain himself. “Yeah, yes sir. That’s me. I’m here–

“For Jack?” Bob finishes Bitty’s sentence, looking at him with a stare that feels weighted. 

Bitty’s too grateful to be shocked that Bob apparently knows his relationship with Jack is _more_. “Yes.”

Alicia raises her eyebrows and turns to her husband. “He’s the one?” she asks in an undertone that makes Bitty feel he’s not meant to be witness.

Bob nods once then turns to Bitty. “Please, come in.”

Bitty gushes his gratitude, and follows Bob and Alicia as they lead him down the entrance way and around a corner to a staircase.

“Up the top, turn left. Jack’s the far door on the right.”

Bitty’s on the second step when Alicia’s hand wraps around his wrist.

“Eric?”

He looks at her, surprised. She must be able to feel how fast his pulse is rushing now that he’s this close to Jack. “Thank you for coming,” she says earnestly.

Bitty swallows and nods, then hurries up the stairs when Alicia lets go.

Last door on the right hand side. Bitty stops, presses a hand to his chest but he doubts there’s anything he can do about it’s speed now.

He knocks.

Bitty holds his breath. There’s nothing for a second, and Bitty wonders whether Jack isn’t here at all, but then Jack replies.

“Oui. Come in.”

Bitty opens the door slowly and steps inside.

Jack’s sitting up in bed, a book propped open on his lap.

Now that he’s here, Bitty doesn’t know what to say.

“What-” Jack half asks shutting the book and putting it on the bedside table.

“Hi,” Bitty says reflexively, too busy looking over Jack for signs of ill-health or similar. He looks perfectly fine, perhaps with more lines below his eyes than usual.

“You’re here,” Jack says; a statement.

“You weren’t answering my texts.”

“Because you-” Jack stops again, and Bitty can tell he’s really truly surprised him by turning up here.

“Did you not think I’d come?” Bitty asks, very slightly snubbed. “When you stopped responding to anyone for days? I was worried–the whole team was–out of my mind.”

Jack’s blinking slowly at Bitty. “You were worried?”

“Jack. Sweetheart.” 

Jack twitches obviously, and Bitty frowns.

“What’s going on?” he asks, feeling something out of place.

Jack averts his gaze. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not… good.”

“What’s not good is you shutting everyone out,” Bitty says, soft but firm. “Why, Jack? You know we care about you. We’ve all got your back. I’m,” Bitty throws his arms out to the side. “I came to Montreal for you.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have,” Jack says harshly, standing up.

“What?” Bitty asks incredulously, taking a step back. This was not the reception he imagined.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Jack repeats, frowning.

Bitty opens and shuts his mouth, totally unable to come up with a response to something he never, ever, imagined Jack saying to him.

Bitty walks to Jack and reaches out to grasp his arm. “Why are you saying that?” 

“Because we’re breaking up!” Jack shouts, batting Bitty’s hand away before it lands. 

Bitty’s arm drops limply to his side.

“You can’t come all the way over here,” Jack continues, accent thick in his fury. “It’s not fair. You can’t give me false hope that you still care for me. Standing there calling me _honey_ and _sweetheart_ and looking at me with your eyes like that and I–”

“Honey,” Bitty finds his voice.

“God, stop it!” Jack throws his hands over his face. He takes a deep, rattling breath and when he drops his hands, his eyes are glassy as he’s looking pleadingly at a point over Bitty’s shoulder. “Please. Stop.”

Bitty bites his lip. He’s never seen Jack this way, and to think that he’s the reason for it is physically sickening.

“No,” Bitty whispers, staring at Jack. “No, I won’t. You’re… What makes you think we’re breaking up?”

“What makes me think…?” Jack’s eyes move to Bitty. “Because the phone call. The other day, what you said. That I don’t understand you. I can’t speak to you.”

Each repetition of his harsh words from that night stab at Bitty’s throat until it’s swollen and hard to breath.

“Bits, without that…” Jack shrugs hopelessly. “What on earth have we got?”

Bitty can’t speak for fear of crying and in the seconds of silence all he can do is stare at Jack and the pain on his face, and understand that he’s the one who put that emotion there and know that he must be the one to change it into something else.

Jack breaks their gaze first. He walks past Bitty heading for the door. Bitty reacts.

With a burst of speed he’s blocking Jack, hand on his chest and pushing back with enough pressure Jack stumbles back.

Bitty shakes his head quickly. Jack opens his mouth to speak but Bitty gets there first.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he hisses, pushing against Jack’s chest again.

Jack closes his mouth.

“I’m not breaking up with you, Jack. I don’t ever want–” He reigns it in, breathing in the hurt that that’s what Jack thought, and his anger at them both for getting themselves into this position.

Another deep breath, and then he continues. “I am so, so sorry that you thought that I was. I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear that what I said that night didn’t mean that I didn’t care for you any more. That I didn’t want to be with you still.”

Bitty steps in closer to Jack. “I’m not… You know I haven’t really…” He looks away, trying to figure out what he wants to say. Jack holds incredibly still, but Bitty can feel his heart racing beneath his palm.

“I don’t know how to make a relationship last,” Bitty admits. “I don’t have that experience. But I know that it takes work, and that it can’t always be perfect between us. So…” He looks back into Jack’s eyes, needing to make sure these next words land. “ _Any_ argument we have–fight, row, tiff, whatever–it’s not an end for us. We get to choose whether we work through it and… and I have. So it’s not and end.”

“But, I guess… I guess we both need to feel that way,” Bitty adds on, realising that Jack’s gut reaction may have betrayed something.

Bitty takes a deep breath. He feels shaky, and crosses his arms across his stomach, dropping his gaze to his feet.

He can see when Jack moves toward him, his feet near touching Bitty’s.

“So… you’re not breaking up with me?” Jack asks quietly.

Bitty shakes his head, then keeps shaking it as he waits for the relief that clogs his throat to pass so he can look to Jack, smile, and say, “I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Thank god,” Jack whispers lowly, then wraps his arms around Bitty

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on [tumblr](http://17piesinseptember.tumblr.com/post/163001749416/fic-prompt-bitty-accidentally-says-something)


End file.
